


i guess it's fate that brings us all we ever need

by stvrmhondss



Series: quespian shenanigans [2]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, The Magicians (TV), The Magicians - Lev Grossman
Genre: M/M, Woops, author uses italics too liberally, no beta we die like men, this is both really soft and really horny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25531330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stvrmhondss/pseuds/stvrmhondss
Summary: He should just enjoy their time together while it lasted, these fleeting moments. He turned to look at Quentin again only to find that he was already looking back, eyes searching his face.“Good Morning”, Caspian said, his voice raspy from disuse and grinning despite himself. Quentin was just an enchanting view in the morning. “Good Morning”, he answered, smiling back.or Caspian and Quentin wake up together. Horniness ensues.
Relationships: Caspian (Narnia)/Quentin Coldwater
Series: quespian shenanigans [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1776439
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10





	i guess it's fate that brings us all we ever need

The first thing Caspian heard was the birds singing right outside the window. It was always the same ones, a pair of blue-headed vireos. He had found one of them a year ago on the path right underneath his window with a broken wing and had slowly nursed it back to health. After he’d released it back into nature, the bird had come back with its mate and every morning they would both sing him a song to wake up to, as if they were saying thank you. Yesterday he had seen them nesting in a nearby tree. Thinking of it always made him smile.

The morning sun shining through the window coloured the insides of his eyelids red and he put his arms above his head on the bed, stretching contentedly. There was a satisfying pull on his muscles and on the scratches on his back, reminding him of the previous night’s events. Flashes of it flickered through his head: Quentin and him sneaking away right after dinner, giggling like children. Pushing Quentin up against the wall in the hallway right outside his rooms, kissing him silly. Clothes flying in every direction in a haste to get to skin, skin, skin. Quentin sprawled out underneath him. Quentin’s legs locked around his waist. Quentin’s face, blissed out. _Quentin_.

He opened his eyes with a happy sigh and turned to his left to look at the man in question. What he saw made his breath stutter. Quentin laid on his back, his head turned towards him and the sheets wrapped around his hips. One hand was buried beneath his pillow and the other was splayed across his abdomen. He was golden, bathed in the morning light and his hair almost glowed, splayed out in every direction on the pillow. Caspian’s gaze was transfixed. Quentin looked peaceful in his sleep, that last bit of weight he never seemed to be able to shake off his shoulders while awake finally gone. Caspian wished he could carry it for him during the day, anything to make it easier for him but he knew that wasn’t how it worked. He could only be there and support Quentin, no matter what would happen in the future. Caspian huffed out a quiet laugh. The future. Who would’ve thought that he’d be thinking about a future now? He certainly hadn’t, not when he had stumbled upon this ragtag group of magicians in the middle of the Western Woods. Not when he had spotted Quentin for the first time, standing in front of his friends and looking like he was trying to explain something while none of them were really able to follow his thought process – a recurring occasion as he had learned. He surely hadn’t thought of it as he had started flirting – very obviously and unashamedly so, he hadn’t been able to help himself – with Quentin at every chance he’d gotten. But now…

Now he found himself imagining a bright and warm future, comforting like a freshly made bed or a warm fire in the evening, a future with Quentin at his side. A future in which he’d get to wake up to sights like this every morning, in which he’d get to show Quentin every corner of Narnia and he’d get to see Quentin’s lovely excitement over and over again. A future that would include coming home to Quentin’s calming presence after stressful days of ruling and falling asleep every night with him in his arms.

He was getting ahead of himself.

Caspian closed his eyes, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. This dream of a cozy future with Quentin was in the end clearly only that – a dream. Just assuming that Quentin would even want to stay in Narnia and essentially give up his life on Earth and on Fillory was unfair of him. For all he knew Quentin couldn’t wait to go home and start ruling his own kingdom. He had to face and prepare for the reality of that. He should just enjoy their time together while it lasted, these fleeting moments. He turned to look at Quentin again only to find that he was already looking back, eyes searching his face.

“Good Morning”, Caspian said, his voice raspy from disuse and grinning despite himself. Quentin was just an enchanting view in the morning. “Good Morning”, he answered, smiling back, “You looked a bit far away there. What were you thinking about?” Caspian turned the question over in his head for a moment and then his grin grew cheeky. “I was thinking about you and those claws of yours.”, he took the hand on Quentin’s stomach in his and nipped at his fingers, “Judging by how my back _feels_ , I’m not sure whether I want to see how it looks. You may as well have torn me to shreds.”

Quentin’s eyes grew comically large and he let out an incredulous laugh. “Excuse me, if I remember correctly, you were _not_ complaining last night.”, he mock-wrestled in his grip a little, “In fact, I believe your exact words were ‘No, don’t stop, harder, baby-“, he broke off, cackling as Caspian used the hold he still had on his hand to pull him closer into a kiss to shut him up, morning breath be damned. Their hands de-tangled, Quentin’s settling on the side of his neck while Caspian’s own came to rest on the small of his back. They separated for a short moment, but Quentin dove immediately back in, tilting his head for a better angle and deepening the kiss. His lips were slightly chapped, and Caspian felt his morning stubble against his own face. Oh, what a way to start your day: Sun shining, birds singing and a beautiful, naked man in your bed to kiss you silly. Truly, what a life he was living. As if he was listening in on his thoughts, Quentin started grinning into the kiss and Caspian had no other choice but to return it. It was barely a kiss anymore, it having dissolved into both of their smiles being pressed together and Caspian chuckled while breaking it.

“What are you smirking about?”, he asked, poking Quentin’s side. It only made him grin harder. “Nothing.”, he answered and tried to rein in the expression on his face, clearly failing because he ended up looking like a rather pouty duck instead. It was too adorable. Caspian inclined his head, mocking surprise though he was sure the growing smile on his face betrayed him. “Oh, nothing?”, he leaned closer to Quentin, “Because to me it rather seemed like you were making fun of me.” Quentin’s jaw dropped open as if in shock, feigning innocence. “What, me? I would _never_.”, he said, the mischief twinkling in his eyes blowing his cover and Caspian had no other choice but to lean even closer, turning him onto his back and hovering over him. “Honestly, how dare you insinuate- “, Caspian couldn’t contain himself. He pressed his lips to Quentin’s, cutting him off mid-sentence. He wasted no time and deepened the kiss, Quentin’s lips parting to grant him entrance. He was never going to get enough of this – this slow slide of lips and tongues. Quentin’s skin soft and warm against his, no hurry to their movements. If he could, he would spend every day just like this, no responsibilities, no kingdom to rule, just him and Quentin in his bed in the early morning sun.

Quentin broke away, giving his lower lip one last bite and Caspian tried to follow but he ducked away with a laugh and looked at him, eyes a bit hazy but with intent. “Do you really want to know what I was smiling about?”, he inquired. He suddenly seemed nervous, but Caspian couldn’t imagine what he’d have to be nervous about. He nodded, remembering that Quentin was waiting for an answer and looked at him with regard. “I was smiling because I’m happy and-”, his voice shook a little and he swallowed, took a deep breath and pressed on, “And being happy isn’t easy for me – my brain likes to make it more difficult than it should be.” A strand of hair had fallen into his face and Caspian reached up to gently brush it away, hoping that it would convey the necessary comfort to encourage Quentin to go on. He had an inkling that whatever he had to say, he had to get it out now. “But the past few weeks here – with _you_ – have probably made me the happiest I’ve been in a long time and I _really_ need you to know that. I need you to know that you make me happy.”

Caspian was stunned into silence. Oh, this man. This beautiful, incredibly brave man. How he managed to wear his heart on his sleeve so openly was a mystery to him and he hoped he was worthy of being on the receiving end of his honesty. Bracing himself on both of his forearms, he leaned down and laid a soft, lingering kiss on his forehead. When he moved away to press his forehead to Quentin’s, he noticed that he had closed his eyes and that his mouth was quivering. Caspian’s emotions rolled and crashed over him like an ocean wave, whirling up everything in its way. A thousand and one things raced through his head, from the sound of the still singing birds to the hint of a dimple he could see every time Quentin’s lips twitched up. He needed to say something, or he was going to die, right there and then. “You are the _bravest_ \- “, his voice gave out on him and he had to take a moment to compose himself, “You are the bravest man I have ever met. How you manage to bear your heart so openly is beyond me and I will never stop being amazed by it.” He cupped Quentin’s face in his hands and brushed his thumbs over his cheeks, refusing to let one second go by without touching him. He took another breath and gathered himself, thinking about what to say next. How was he going to put what their time spent together meant to him into words? Quentin opened his eyes at the pause, looking up into his and suddenly, just like that, Caspian knew what he wanted to say. “Our time spent together has meant everything to me and with every second that passes by, my hope of it never ending grows more and more. You make me _incredibly_ happy, too, and hearing that I’ve made you happy is a wonderful gift.” He stopped, just shy of dropping a four-letter word, of asking Quentin to stay and not to return to Earth or Fillory. It would be too early – it wouldn’t be fair.

He could see Quentin’s eyes well up and before he got out a word of comfort, Quentin surged up to claim a kiss, burying his hands in his hair and pulling him closer. It startled a surprised noise out of Caspian but not a displeased one, far from it. Quentin smiled into it, and it soothed the edge to Caspian’s feelings that had risen up in him at seeing Quentin tear up. He felt Quentin’s legs sneak around the back of his thighs, making him smirk. Apparently, it was going to be _that_ kind of morning – he certainly wasn’t going to complain. What he didn’t see coming, was Quentin using that grip on his thighs to pull and then flip him onto his back, settling on his hips afterwards. Caspian huffed out a surprised laugh, readjusting and his hands came to rest on Quentin’s hips in return. When he glanced up at him, Quentin’s bright and twinkling eyes looked right back.

“Well, hello.”, Caspian breathed out with a low laugh right on its heels.

“Hi.”, Quentin grinned as he spoke, a soft yet at the same time almost wolfish quality to it. Caspian had the distinct feeling that he was about to be eaten alive. If this was how he was going to leave this world, then so be it because honestly, what a way to go. Quentin leaned down and claimed his lips in a deep kiss. His hands came up to frame Caspian’s face, one thumb brushing over his cheek, back and forth. The tenderness of it was overwhelming, all soft, sleep warm skin and golden sunlight. The need to stay like this forever, to never leave this bed and to only have _this_ , for the rest of his days, crashed over Caspian yet again. How he was going to get any work done ever again was a mystery to him, with Quentin just within reach, easy intimacy and just – hands, lips, hair, skin, _boy_ right at his fingertips. Caspian distantly wondered when the last time had been that he’d felt so at home like this and the mere thought of it terrified him. He was getting attached too quickly, too easily, when the chances were that Quentin could disappear back to Earth or Fillory or simply go _away_ any day now. But he could do it, he told himself, he could quietly, secretly love this gentle, funny, _lovely_ wonder of a man, and when the time arrived, he would let him go. Caspian wrapped his arms around him and pressed him closer, clearing his head, coming back to the here and now. The motion aligned them _just right_ and Quentin and him both inhaled sharply. Oh, the absolute blessing that was skin-to-skin contact.

Using that grip, Caspian carefully tipped them both over onto their sides, and then kept going until Quentin was back under him and they were pressed together, lips to lips, chest to chest. Caspian lost himself in the deep and slow and _thorough_ slide of it, kissing Quentin a joy he’d never trade away and experimentally moved his hips against Quentin’s, earning him a shaky, open-mouthed exhale. He understood it as the encouragement it was and build up a steady, almost lazy rhythm; there was no hurry. Quentin’s hands went exploring, from Caspian’s neck to his chest, around his waist and onto his back, his grip firm and with intent – a promise. They continued their journey, sliding lower and lower and lower and – Caspian moaned into the kiss, not being able to help himself, the thought and the _feeling_ of Quentin’s strong, sturdy hands – a magician’s hands – grabbing and squeezing his ass. He broke away, kissing his way down his neck and right where Quentin’s neck met his shoulder, he stopped and sucked and bit lightly down, feeling his pulse jump and race under the skin. He moaned loudly and his hands slid off Caspian’s cheeks, dragging over his back and scratching a little, not yet hard enough to leave marks but hard enough for him to _feel_ it. He groaned against Quentin’s skin, mouth open, panting. Hard and aching, desire crashed through him like ocean waves during a storm, untameable, unstoppable – he was dizzy with it.

Quentin’s legs came up to lock around his waist, ankles crossed over the small of his back, and _pulled_ him in on the next thrust, making them both moan loudly. Caspian deliriously pushed himself up, hands braced on both sides next to Quentin’s head, and looked at him, eyes dark and hazy. The hot gaze he received in return was disarming, and Caspian had no other choice but to dive down into another searing kiss, only breaking away to ask him, breathless, “Tell me, what do you want?” Quentin arched up to lock their lips once more, sultry and with bite. Caspian promptly forget he’d asked a question. He remembered only when Quentin pulled away again to answer him, “You. Just- you, all of you.” At that, Caspian’s mind fizzled out, his last few clearly thinking brain cells packing up their bags and wishing him good luck while walking straight out the door. Quentin’s hands slithered all the way up his back, over his shoulders and down his arms, further driving him into distraction. It was so much, the heat, the desire, _Quentin_. The possibilities were endless.

Quentin took his right hand into his and Caspian’s focus zeroed in on the motion, the feeling of it. He started drawing an elaborate sigil into the palm of his hand, a large circle and then within it several smaller, more complicated signs. Caspian recognized it from the night before and an electric shock shot down his spine, sizzling out into his muscles. It’s what he imagined being struck by lightning to feel like. When Quentin released his hand, it was slick, and he had half a mind to grab a pillow with his other one to put under Quentin’s hips before reaching down to find his hole. His finger slowly circled Quentin’s rim, letting him get used to the wet and slightly cool sensation. Leaning down, he dropped one, two, three, four kisses onto his stomach and Quentin attempted to arch up into the touch and push back against his hand at the same time. When he pressed the first finger in, Quentin let out a shuddering moan and twisted his hands into the bedsheets.

Moving and curling, he slowly opened him and then a second finger followed. The little noises Quentin made, breathless and desperate, let a hot-cold shiver run down Caspian’s spine and, not being able to stop himself, he dropped a cluster of kisses on the inside of his thigh, pulling the skin between his teeth and biting lightly every now and then. A third finger slid in and after letting Quentin adjust to the stretch, he started moving all three while switching to his other thigh to give it the same treatment of bite-y kisses. A twist and a curl and – Quentin’s back abruptly arched off the bed and he moaned _loudly_. One of his hands released the sheets to grab onto his forearm, shamelessly feeling him up as his muscles worked, contracting and relaxing, as he moved his fingers inside him. He repeated the motion, a twist and a curl, and Quentin’s grip tightened, another moan ringing through the room. He untangled his other hand from the sheets as well and clutched his shoulder, pulling him forward into another kiss. After pulling away again, he panted into the space between them. “I- I’m- _Ohmygod_ -“, Caspian hit the same spot again, “I’m ready.”

He swore, blanking out for a second, the thought of sinking into Quentin hitting him full force. After carefully easing his fingers out, Caspian reached down to slick himself, the touch driving him wild, so turned on that he felt like his blood vessels were about to burst.

He was certain he was going to _die_ , just like this, enveloped by Quentin’s hot touch, his scent, his moans and whimpers, his _everything_. Making it out of this bedroom alive was not something he saw himself doing; Caspian X, survivor of assassination attempts and revolutions, dying before his official coronation at the hands of foreign royalty, but not in the way you would expect. The ancestors were going to have forgive him for that. _Hand to heart – I had no other choice, and let’s be honest, what a fantastic way to leave this world._

Slowly and ever so gently, Caspian pressed in, letting Quentin adjust to the new stretch and planting open-mouthed kisses along his neck and sternum. Quentin’s hands on his shoulders tightened their grip and he breathed out once, sharply, through his nose. Control was slipping through his fingers like sand, quickly, steadily and he bowed his head to try and keep it together until suddenly there was a hand on his chin, tilting his head back up look at Quentin’s face. What he saw nearly made him come right then and there. His eyes were blown wide and the heat behind his gaze was palpable.

He dropped his forehead to Quentin’s and muttered almost deliriously, “You- You just…I don’t- Oh, shut me up, I don’t know what I’m saying.” Quentin giggled, high-pitched and airy, and it should’ve felt out of place, but it didn’t. He kissed him, once, twice, three times and whispered in the space between them, “Don’t talk then. _Move_.” Caspian made a punched-out sound, something somewhere between a groan and a moan, and started to _move_. Almost immediately Quentin’s little noises of pleasure started to fill the room and his fingers clawed into Caspian’s back right under his shoulder blades, pulling a groan out from deep within his chest. There was a hint of a smirk on Quentin’s face, but it quickly dissolved into a loud moan at the next thrust of his hips. He repeated the motion; another moan. Clearly, he’d found the right angle – Quentin looked as wild as he felt. He sped up the pace and the fingers clawed into his back slid down with every movement, surely scratching deeply enough to leave marks – an addition to the ones already there form the night before. He was losing his mind.

Caspian knew he wouldn’t last; at this rate, he was being propelled towards orgasm, the image of a morning full of _slow_ , lazy lovemaking being catalogued for another time. Quentin pawed at him, trying to get his attention. “Caspian, I- _Ah, shit_ ”, he broke off with a groan. Coaxing every single noise out of him, no matter how loud or quiet, was addicting. He pressed a stream of kisses against his throat, nipping at his jaw every other time, and in between, he asked, “What do you want? Tell me, love, tell me.” Quentin let out a shaky breath, “Touch me.”

Caspian closed his eyes for a hot second and then reached between them to take Quentin’s cock in hand, inducing a shout from him. With every long and quick stroke, he brought him closer to the brink – he could see it in the way his eyelids fluttered; he could feel it in the way his legs tightened around his waist, his heels digging into the small of his back. Sure enough, within a short time Quentin let out the beginning of a breathless warning, “I’m- I’m gonna-“.

Caspian nodded into the crook of his neck, mumbling vague affirmations. When he came, it was with a loud moan, arms and legs locking around Caspian and holding on for dear life. Soon after, he followed, collapsing onto his forearms, barely being able to keep himself from crushing Quentin. Just like that, they lay there, both of them catching their breaths, Quentin running his fingers through Caspian’s hair and Caspian dropping small kisses onto his jaw and the side of his face in return. A hoarse but deeply pleased laugh escaped Quentin – he deliriously thought he would kill to hear that sound again. He carefully disentangled himself from him and Quentin hissed at the sensation of him slipping out; he kissed his thigh in apology. Caspian settled next to him, pulling him into his arms for a very warm and also very sticky snuggle – he paid no mind to it. As if he was reading his mind again, Quentin looked up at him and murmured, “We should probably-“.

“In a minute.”, he interrupted him, “In a minute, love. Let’s…”, he didn’t need to finish the sentence, Quentin not having to actually be convinced to stay in bed, already settling down into a prolonged cuddle. His head came to rest on his chest and he let out a happy little sigh; Caspian’s heart was ready to burst at the seams. After a moment, Quentin whispered into the surrounding silence, “I know this is about to get really uncomfortable,”, they both chuckled, “but can we just…stay like this? Forever?” It sounded like the last part was supposed to come across as a joke – it didn’t land. A soft, cautious vulnerability shined through and Caspian swallowed. “Yes. Yes, of course we can.”, he whispered back. He dropped a kiss into Quentin’s hair, closing his eyes, and he felt him turning his face further into his chest. He opened his eyes again and stared at the ceiling; the birds outside continued their song. His mind was swirling with thoughts of the man the next to him and concepts like staying and wanting and forever.

Oh, his treacherous heart had gotten him into trouble.

**Author's Note:**

> this got real horny real quick lmao
> 
> again, this isn't part of my "canon" the magicians x narnia-verse, this is really just...shenanigans.
> 
> y'all can check out the highlight with our au videos here: https://twitter.com/i/events/1264638104385646593
> 
> for general magicians x narnia screaming look to @sophistray @wow__then and me, @stvrmhondss on twitter.
> 
> this one's for soph for putting up with my bullshit
> 
> see ya kids later. peace.


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